


some long-forgotten soldier

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age of Ultron Didn't Happen, Clara is Hydra, F/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, So much Hydra everywhere, The Doctor is Hydra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3250607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"i do not think that roses are supposed to bloom / in the winter, but you do. / you do every time." -<a href="http://vespairs.tumblr.com/post/115802327808/you-wouldnt-let-me-braid-flowers-into-my-hair">Madeleine C.</a></p><p><b>NAME:</b> CLARA<br/><b>AFFILIATION:</b> HYDRA<br/><b>STATUS:</b> AGENT; LEVEL 8<br/><b>CURRENT MISSION:</b> INFILTRATE AVENGERS TOWER. GET FILES, INTEL, PLANS.<br/><em>-TEMPORAL RESTRICTIONS:</em> 1 MONTH<br/><em>-POSSIBLE MORAL THREATS:</em> FORMER ALLIANCE WITH S.H.I.E.L.D. AGENT LANCE HUNTER; ACQUAINTANCE OF CAPTAIN ROGERS, STEVEN GRANT (CODENAME: CAPTAIN AMERICA)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> literally the weirdest summary i have ever written jfc  
> the quote is from a beautiful poem by tumblr user mythaelogy which i have linked in the summary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **MISSION STATUS**  
>  _CURRENT TIME:_ 0237 EST.  
>  AGENT SUCCESSFULLY IN. NO FURTHER CONTACT HAS BEEN MADE.

"Get in, gain their trust, their secrets, everything." The comm crackled a bit, and she knew that he'd put his mouth right up close again.

"This is not an easy job, Doctor. It'll take time," she retorted.

"And I will buy you the time. I'm trusting you on this, Clara. Now get in there and do your job."

"Copy that, sir." Humor crept into her voice.

"I can hear you smiling. This is not for fun."

"Yes, sir."

"And stop calling me sir. You know I hate that."

"That's why I do it, sir."

"Just go!"

She laughed.

"Of course, sir."

Then, she removed the communicator from her ear and crushed it under her heel.

 

Everything was in place: the tattered flowery dress, the blood, the injuries. The cover story. Clara’s features slipped into a scared, terrified mess of tears, and turned the corner. She ran up to the tall building, panting, crying, and rang the intercom.

"We are sorry, but the former Stark Tower is now a private building," a gentle, male voice floated out towards her. She let out another sob and rang again.

"We are sorry, but-"

"Please," she whispered. "Please help me. Something is chasing me. I don't-" she drew a shaky breath. "I don't think it's human." There was a moment of silence during which she wasn't sure if it would work, and she mentally cursed the Doctor multiple times over. But then the doors slid smoothly, silently open, and she slipped inside, still trying to suppress fake sobs.

The lobby was dark, but one by one the lights flickered on. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she slowly made her way towards the elevator. Clara made sure to keep up the tears, and turned around, gasping in fake awe at the grandness of it all. (It was too science-fiction for her tastes. She preferred old-fashioned-ballrooms-with-gold-trim type places.)

"The Avengers are waiting for you on the eighteenth floor." The smooth voice from outside, the one with an upper-class English accent sliced through her quiet sobs. "Please proceed to the lift."

Clara spun around in surprise, as if she'd only just noticed that there _was_ a lift. (Of course, she’d scanned the room upon entering. She was a spy,and one of the best, at that, and that was Rule Number One.) She approached it cautiously and swiped her finger over the button, withdrawing it instantly. She was supposed to be scared, she reminded herself. In awe, but scared. The doors slid open immediately, and after taking a last faux-cautious look around the lobby, she stepped inside.

The amount of buttons embedded in the mirrored interior of the elevator were endless. Clara didn't even need to feign surprise. The sheer amount of floors in this building...it was like nothing she'd ever seen before. Not even in the headquarters where Whitehall was stationed.

 

"We don't know whether we can trust this girl," Steve hissed. "She could be HYDRA."

"Well how about we wait until she comes up then ask your ex-HYDRA buddy whether he recognizes her?" Tony retorted.

"Don't bring Bucky into this-"

"Children, children." Clint walked into the room, his speech mildly slurred.

"Man, are you drunk?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Mildly," Natasha replied, following Clint through the door. "What? You think I was gonna stop the poor idiot? He's cute when he's drunk."

"Are _you_ drunk, Nat?" Steve asked.

Her glare was answer enough, but she still followed it up with, "I think you know how dumb that question was."

The door slid open again and Bucky walked through looking like he'd just woken up, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants with a well-known shield printed across the back, sparking chuckles and a few wolf-whistles from almost everyone present.

"Aw, Buck, you're wearing _those_?"

The other man smiled an evil little smile. "You didn't think I was just gonna let these sit at the bottom of a drawer, did ya?"

"I kinda hoped you would."

"I'm sure." Bucky patted Steve on the ass then pushed past Tony and poured himself a drink at the bar.

"Sir, the girl is on the way up." Jarvis interrupted the conversation. "I ran facial recognition as you requested."

"And?" Tony prompted.

"She's called Clara Oswald. She used to work as an English Teacher at Coal Hill School in Shoreditch, East London."

"Used to, huh? What's she up to now?"

"It's not clear, sir. When her partner Danny Pink died she moved to New York. There are no records of her life here at all."

"Great, thanks Jarvis."

"No records of her life here?" Natasha pursed her lips. "We'll just have to be careful and ask a lot of questions, then."

The six turned towards the elevator door, just as it opened.

"Th-thank you so much for letting me in, I-"

There was a choking noise, and everyone turned to find Bucky very red in the face, and his right arm shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve noticed Natasha spring to her feet, flipping Clint off her lap. He’d tried to tell her that it was fine, the Asset was gone and it was all Bucky now, but even he knew now that wasn’t completely true.

"Buck," he said gently. "Hey, Bucky. You with me?" He approached his friend carefully. "Are you okay?" Then, more hesitantly. “Do you…do you know her?”

“I…I think. But not Hydra. _Before._ ”

“As in World War Two-before?”

Bucky nodded, eyes still trained on the shaking, sobbing girl, trying to remember how on earth he could have possibly known her last century.

“How is she still…alive?” he asked Steve finally, then turned to the girl and questioned her more forcefully:

“Why are you alive?” ~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **MISSION STATUS**  
>  _CURRENT TIME:_ 0332  
>  NO CONTACT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so extremely sorry this took so long but i hope no one hates me!!
> 
> a huge huge thank you to my lovely beta [aisha](http://queen-aishaa.tumblr.com%22)
> 
> trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> -mentions of torture  
> -descriptions of a minor panic attack

The moment Clara laid her eyes on Bucky Barnes, she knew there would be trouble. Nothing she couldn't handle, of course, but it would certainly make the job harder. She didn't know how much of his memory he'd retrieved, but she hoped with all her might that it wasn't anything too recent. She simply could not have him remembering the two of them going on a killing spree together under the HYDRA flag.

In the few moments she had, she weighed the pros and cons of pretending not to know Bucky. The cons won out. It became obvious that the only way she could get through this was to pretend she hadn't seen him since 1942.

"B-bucky?" she stammered. "Oh my god. You're...alive?"

Clara launched herself at Bucky, pushing through the crowd of shocked superheroes. She trailed her fingers lightly over his face and forced tears into her eyes.

Bucky hesitantly brought his hand up to touch her cheek. “You’re…you’re real? You’re not a ghost?”

She shook her head and let out a sob. “Bucky,” she whispered. “How is this possible?”

He smiled a little. “You were always my impossible girl, weren’t you?"

Clara felt her breath leave her body, for real. He hadn’t called her that in…years. Not since before the war. Real tears came to her eyes, and she swore internally. Emotions were not part of the plan. 

“Who is she?” she heard Tony Stark _(Anthony Stark, Iron Man, Avenger)_ whisper.

"She’s…she was Bucky’s date,” Steve whispered back. He seemed to have a hard time getting words out of his throat. “On his last night in New York we went to a science fair. Saw your dad’s flying car.”

“My dad had a flying car?”

“Tony, she was alive in _1942_! She should be dead, or almost dead by now.”

"So should you,” Natasha Romanoff _(Natalia Romanova, Black Widow, Avenger, previously affiliated with the Red Room)_ jumped in. “And so should Bucky and I. But we’re right here and perfectly fine.”

“Point.”

“I think,” Sam Wilson _(Falcon, Avenger)_ said loud enough for them all to hear, “everyone needs a drink and an explanation. Sounds good?” 

Clara buried her face in Bucky’s neck. She needed to get a hold of herself and…and he smelled so _familiar_ , with an extra metallic tang.

 _Jesus, Clara_ , she thought at herself. _Wake the fuck up._

She took a deep, deep breath and shoved all her emotions to the back of her mind to be dealt with when this damn mission was over.

“Clara?” Bucky whispered. “You want something to drink?”

Clara picked her head up and turned around to see the rest of the Avengers gathering around the bar.

“Yeah,” she said, letting some hoarseness into her voice. “I could use some alcohol right now.”

* * *

 Later, once everyone had gotten sufficiently drunk – or at least the supersoldier equivalent of it, Stark turned to Clara.

“So how about” – he burped – “some explanations?”

“Can I have a little more first?” she asked shyly, holding out her empty glass.

Stark nodded and gestured for Clint Barton _(Hawkeye, Avenger)_ – who’d woken up for more drinks – to hand him a bottle. With a full glass and an un-forced vacant look in her eyes, Clara began her story.

“When you guys went to war, I couldn’t just…sit on my arse in New York and do nothing. I asked for med courses from a volunteer at the hospital – a nice blonde Irish lady – and soon I became a nurse. I kept getting moved around, once I was shipped out, and I was hoping, _praying_ for the 107th.

“By the time I actually got there, you guys were off with Peggy Carter and your little team of Howling Commandos, blowing up HYDRA bases. No one knew where you guys were and I had no way to contact you. There was a rumor going around, though, that you were about ten miles out, staying in your own little bunker with some of the other higher-ups.”

Clara paused for a moment.

“I, uh. I stole some food and a coat, and a dead man’s supplies. One night I went looking for you. I just kept going in the direction a soldier pointed me and hoped I would come across _something_ , but… I never did.

“I just kept walking for days and days, and I eventually turned back but it was the middle of winter and there was a blizzard. I got lost. I almost died, but I don’t know if it was starvation, hypothermia or dehydration. Probably all three.

“When they found me, I was half-dead in a snowbank. I don’t know what they were doing out there but I bet they were running from you.”

"Who’re _they_?” Stark cut in.

“HYDRA.”  Clara looked around at every face, familiar or not, knowing she looked, hollow, haunted. This would win them over. (The best part, she told herself, the _best_ part is that her story is true.)

“I wish they’d stop fucking growing heads,” grumbled Barton.

“Yeah, well,” Clara sighed. “Don’t we all.”

“Go on,” Rogers urged gently.

Bucky squeezed her hand.

“I think I went in and out for the next few days, but when I really woke up, I was chained to a wall and I wasn’t shaking uncontrollably. Someone was feeding me. He called for the others, said something in German. And then it started.

“They interrogated me for days on end, trying to get information about Captain America. Of course, I didn’t know anything. I was a _nurse_ , and I’d known you, Rogers, for about ten minutes. So eventually they gave up. But instead of saying, _Let her go_ or _Kill her_ , they said –"

Clara choked on her words. Her breaths came quicker, and she couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs. Her well-trained mind flashed red, but she just couldn’t calm down.

Then, Bucky’s strong arms were around her, his soothing, scratchy voice was murmuring comforting nonsense into her ear, and it struck her that not acting, not covering up her vulnerability was maybe the best way to get into these people’s hearts, and their files.

“I’m okay,” she said. “’M fine.”

“You don’t have to continue right now,” Wilson suggested. “You’ve had a rough –"

“No. I haven’t… I’ve never told this story before. Might as well get it out in one go.”

The Avengers nodded, clearly relieved that she wasn’t about to call it a night.

Clara groped at her train of thought, trying to remember what she was saying before her little breakdown.

“They didn’t kill you,” prompted Bucky softly.

“Right. Yeah. They didn’t kill me. They brought me to a cold room with a cold metal table and cold machinery, and spots of dried blood on the floor. They strapped me to the table, and…I honestly don’t know what happened next. I just know that the next time I opened my eyes, someone else was in control and I could throw a hundred kilo sack of rocks over my head without a backwards glance.

“That was 1945. It’s all a bit fuzzy – I think they erased my memories – but I remember the next time I woke up it was 1985 and I didn’t look a day older. There were new people. I didn’t know who they were but they kept telling me that if I complied, I would be rewarded. So I complied, because it sure beats torture.

“In 1994, I escaped. I escaped HYDRA, the brainwashing, the killing. Well, not the killing. It was the only thing I knew how to do. I teamed up with a guy called Lance Hunter and, well, we were mercenaries. Killing was our job. It’s always better to do it of your own free will, but it was still unpleasant.

“HYDRA caught up with me a few years ago. They killed. They killed Danny.” Clara took a deep breath. “Then I wiped all the records of myself, came here, started over. Clara Oswald doesn’t even exist anymore.”

She stopped talking, and looked around at the Avengers. “The end?”


End file.
